


The Challenge Collection

by Snowblazehollyleafstar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23494012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowblazehollyleafstar/pseuds/Snowblazehollyleafstar
Summary: A series of unconnected drabbles and one-shots cross-posted from ff.net, where they were written for challenges and assignments for Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges. Don't have time to list them all yet, but:1. Sibling Love: Daphne tries to cheer Astoria up over a game of Exploding Snap.2. Most Extraordinary: Daphne never really believed she could beat Horace Slughorn to win a place in the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers.3. Loony Girl: Luna is saddened to find out what her dorm-mates really think about her.4. Snowballs and Love: Bill and Fleur enjoy their first winter as a married couple.5. Television Troubles: Ernie doesn't understand Muggle technology.6. Study Partners: Hermione helps Neville with his homework.7. Order and Mess: Padma persuades Mandy to tidy her trunk.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass & Daphne Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass & Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass/Theodore Nott, Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger & Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Kudos: 6





	1. Sibling Love

“Snap!” called Astoria triumphantly.

Daphne smiled and handed her younger sister three cards from the pile in front of her. “Oh, dear,” she said, “I’m going to run out of cards soon.”

Astoria grinned. “I knew I was going to win!” she said.

“It’s not over yet,” replied Daphne, flipping the next card and glancing quickly at the top of her pile. It didn’t match.

“Do you have to go back to Hogwarts, Daph?” asked Astoria quietly. “I don’t want to spend another whole year without you.”

Daphne frowned. “It’s not a whole year,” she said, thinking of the best way to reassure her sister. “I’ll be home at Christmas, and then Easter. And then next year you’ll be able to come, too. Won’t that be great?”

Astoria reached out to turn the next card. “Christmas is nearly three months away. And there’s nothing to do here without you.”

Daphne couldn’t think of a response to this. She knew only too well how boring it could be. She’d gone through it herself, after all. “I’ll write to you,” she said. 

“Every day?” asked Astoria.

“I’ll probably be too busy to write every day,” admitted Daphne. “But twice a week.” She saw Astoria’s face fall and quickly tried to think of something to prevent the younger girl from crying. “Do you want ice cream for dinner?” she asked, turning another card over.

Astoria smiled. “Yes!”

“Snap!” called Daphne, taking advantage of her sister’s distraction to slam her wand down on the pile of cards. 

“Not fair,” protested Astoria half-heartedly, too excited at the prospect of ice-cream to be disappointed.

“Life isn’t fair,” said Daphne. “You can get up on your moral high horse if you like, but you’re only going to end up losing. If you want to win, you need to be ruthless. And less easily distracted.”

Astoria aimed a playful punch at her sister’s arm. “I am not easily distracted!”

Daphne pulled hastily back to dodge her sister’s blow and pulled her wand from her pocket. “Careful,” she said, “otherwise I might have to jinx you.”

“You’re not allowed to use magic in the holidays,” said Astoria, but all the same she watched the point of Daphne’s wand closely.

Daphne twirled the wand around her fingers, watching Astoria’s eyes dart about, trying to follow its tip. “The Ministry won’t be able to follow up on it. They can detect underage magic but not the perpetrator.”

“Per-pe-tray-tor,” repeated Astoria slowly. “What does that mean?”

“It’s like… someone who does something. Like if I stole your toys, say, I’d be the perpetrator of the crime.”

Astoria nodded. 

“So, they’d think Mum or Dad had done it and I had nothing to do with it,” concluded Daphne with a smile. 

“I’d tell them,” said Astoria.

“The Ministry?”

“No, Mum and Dad. They wouldn’t be happy with you.”

“Little snitch,” said Daphne affectionately. “Fine, I won’t jinx you.” She slipped her wand back into her pocket. “It’s your turn.”

Astoria flipped over the next card. “Will you ask Mum and Dad about the ice cream?”

“Of course I will,” replied Daphne.

“Love you, Daph!” said Astoria, reaching across the pile of cards to give her sister a hug.

“Love you too,” Daphne said, hugging her sister back.


	2. Most Extraordinary

Daphne glanced over at Slughorn, hoping desperately that he wasn’t ahead of her, even though she knew he would be. After all, he had always been top of his class in Potions and had several years’ more experience than she did.

They were each focused intensely on the brewing of Amortentia, as part of the incredibly tough entrance examinations of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. The process had been gruelling and there were only two of them left from the twelve applicants there had been at the beginning of the year.

This was the final test. Whoever performed the best with this potion would be granted membership of the Society.

Daphne looked away from her rival and returned to her own potion, which she carefully stirred thrice anti-clockwise before leaving it to simmer gently. Meanwhile, she returned to the precise chopping of her Gurdyroot with her silver dagger.

A pearly sheen began to rise from the cauldron and she caught a faint whiff of the scent of morning dew. She knew already, from experience three years ago in her N.E.W.T. potions class, what Amortentia smelt like for her: morning dew, her sister’s hair and the slightly musty scent of a certain former classmate’s clothes. Her potion was working. She smiled.

“Five minutes left,” said the man who was running the entrance exams. 

Daphne felt her heart beat faster and told herself firmly not to panic. Five minutes was enough for what she needed to do. She finished chopping her Gurdyroot and counted to twenty under her breath before using the dagger to scrape it into the cauldron. 

It immediately turned from pale purple to clear and colourless, and Daphne began to smell her sister’s hair. She carefully picked up the little rod and stirred the cauldron: three anti-clockwise, two clockwise, and then all she had to do was let it simmer for three minutes. Perfect timing.

She glanced over at Slughorn: he was just a fraction ahead of her, and had been watching her for a few seconds. They didn’t meet each other’s eye: each knew that they could be about to shatter the other’s dreams.

While Daphne was waiting, she tidied up her ingredients. She had learnt through experience that a messy potioneer would not get very far: even a tiny amount of contamination could be disastrous.

Eventually the examiner told them to wait outside the large room in which the tests had been taking place while their potions were tested and examined and a decision was made.

Daphne and Slughorn walked quickly out of the room. The door was closed behind them, and they stood awkwardly outside in the corridor.

“Greengrass – “ said Slughorn haltingly, after a long silence. “I know we haven’t always got on that well, but I just want you to know – if they choose you – I won’t hold it against you. You’re just as worthy of this as I am.”

“I don’t think it’s likely I’ll be chosen,” said Daphne honestly. “It’s much more likely that you will. But… thank you, and I won’t hold it against you either.”

Daphne and Slughorn had never had the best relationship, but they were rivals, rather than enemies. This was good news for both of them that they were able to be civil to each other outside of Potions. Still, they would never be friends and they didn’t have anything else to say to each other.

So they stood, and they waited nervously, Daphne twisting her hair around her finger as was her habit when worried. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the door opened and the examiner came out.

“I’d like to congratulate both of you on your excellent brewing,” he said. “Regrettably, however, we can only admit one of you into the Society. We have analysed your potions, and a decision has been made.”

He paused, possibly for dramatic effect. “On behalf of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, I would like to formally welcome Daphne Greengrass to our ranks.”

It took all Daphne’s self-control not to scream in delight. Instead she merely smiled and stepped forward to shake his hand. “Thank you,” she said. “I would be delighted to accept.” She had done it!


	3. Loony Girl

Luna lay curled in a ball in the centre of her new bed, curtains pulled tightly shut so she could escape the hostile stares of her new dorm-mates. They were talking about her again.

“She’s really crazy,” said Sarah MacDonald, a red-headed half-blood with a big mouth. “I mean, she told me I was infested with Wrackspurts, what the hell is that meant to mean?”

“Yeah, I don’t have a clue what she’s talking about. Her father is the editor of that weird magazine, what’s it called…” This was Lucy Davidson. She’d sat in the same compartment as Luna on the Hogwarts Express, and had seemed nice until now. 

“The Quibbler?” asked Sarah.

“Yeah, that’s the one. I reckon she gets it from him.”

Luna tried to tune out the discussion. It stung to hear what these people thought of her, even though she’d always thought she didn’t care. They were all infested with Wrackspurts that closed their minds and stopped them from thinking clearly.

“I’ve never read that,” said another girl – Emily King, a Muggle-born. “I mean, I didn’t realise what she says makes no sense. To me magic makes no sense.”

“Yeah, I guess it must seem a bit overwhelming. But Loony doesn’t help anything, she’s just weird.”

Luna felt a surge of anger. It’s not their fault, she reminded herself. Wrackspurts. They just couldn’t understand her. She wanted to get one of her textbooks or the latest edition of the Quibbler to read, but all her stuff was under the bed and she’d have to emerge from the safety of her curtains to get at it.

Since when had she been afraid of what other people had thought? Like her mother always used to say, as long as you’re happy to be yourself, none of that matters. Before she could change her mind, she grabbed hold of the curtain and tugged it, hard.

The girls who had been discussing her all winced as they saw her giving them a calm stare. 

“You know I can hear you through the curtains, right?” she asked. “My brain hasn’t been addled by Nargles.”

That silenced them, if only for a moment, and she took full advantage of it to open her trunk and pull out the Quibbler. Then, still appearing perfectly calm and normal, she jumped back onto the bed and pulled the curtain shut again.


	4. Snowballs and Love

“It is cold,” said Fleur. “The weather is much warmer in France than it is here.”

“I know,” Bill agreed, smiling at his wife of five months, “but we do have one thing you don’t in France.”

“What is that?” Fleur asked.

Bill bent down and scooped up a handful of snow. Years of practice from being the eldest of seven siblings came in very handy as he threw it, hard, at Fleur. “Snow!”

Fleur ducked, but too late: the snowball hit her in the side. “You will pay for this!” she spat, gathering up her own snowball. With a flick of her wand, she made the snowball fly towards Bill.

He had forgotten his wife’s formidable charm skills, which she had used to great effect in the Triwizard Tournament. But he wasn’t a curse-breaker for nothing.

Soon bewitched snowballs were flying back and forth. Bill had flung up a strong shield, but Fleur was able to simply levitate her snowballs around it, even if that reduced their speed and bought him time to dodge. 

Bill threw one snowball with his left hand, and with his right used his wand to levitate three in a row and hurled them straight at Fleur. 

Then he blinked, and she was suddenly unbearably beautiful. He couldn’t bring himself to hurt her, he wanted to kiss her and love her and never take his eyes off her. “Fleur…” he said thickly, “don’t do that to me…”

Without seeming to do anything except flick her hair from side to side, Fleur went back to her normal (still incredibly beautiful) self.

“I love you anyway,” he said, “you don’t need to be stunning like that.”

“You like it, though?”

“Well, yes, but I like you more.”

“I am glad to hear it. It is cold now. Will you make me some hot chocolate?”

“Of course I will, darling,” said Bill. He wrapped his arm around her shivering form (of course, Veela were very sensitive to the cold; he should have thought of that before starting a snowball fight) and led her up the garden to Shell Cottage.

Soon they were safely inside the building, enjoying the wonders of Muggle central heating. Bill used his wand to heat up the two cups of milk instantly, and they stirred two teaspoons of dark brown powder each into their mugs and sat sipping them together on the sofa.

“Sorry about that,” said Bill. “I should have remembered about the cold. Are you okay?”

“A little cold,” Fleur admitted. “But I will warm up. It is fine. We can snuggle together.”

Bill tried to act normal, as if snuggling with a quarter-Veela was something he did every day. It still took him a moment to realise that it was, even though they’d been married five months already. Every day it seemed like a fresh miracle.

He wrapped his arm slowly around her and pulled her closer. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” replied Fleur. Bill’s heart soared to heights he had never known it could reach.


	5. Television Troubles

“How the hell does this thing work?” said Ernie to himself, staring in puzzlement at the “telly-vision”. He had only been in the Muggle world for a few hours, and was already completely bewildered by all the new technologies and inventions they’d come up with. It was certainly quite an experience.

Justin was upstairs, still unpacking his things, and his parents were downstairs making lunch for the two boys, so Ernie decided to experiment with the television himself. How hard could it be, if even Muggles could do it?

He picked up the remote control, which was apparently sort of like a wand but it only worked for the television, and began randomly pressing buttons. The first four or five didn’t do anything but when he pressed a big blue one with a circle-like symbol the blank screen lit up a bright white, and the words “Loading… please wait…” appeared on it.

Ernie waited (less and less patiently) for about a minute before the screen began to show a large room with a man sitting at a desk in the centre of it. 

“BBC News at two o’clock,” said the man very loudly. 

Ernie panicked and began frantically pressing buttons. He only succeeded in making the man even louder, switching to what looked like a car advert, and turning on the subtitles so that he could read the voice in the background’s words (Honda. A car for all the family.)

“Um…” he called, deciding that this was too tricky for him to work out. “Justin?”

He could just about hear footsteps coming downstairs over the next advert (an annoying toothpaste jingle) and then his friend arrived in the living room and snatched the control away from Ernie. In about ten seconds Justin turned the volume down so that they could hear themselves think, removed the subtitles and switched back to the news.

“Sorry,” said Ernie slightly sheepishly. He had had no idea that Muggle things were so complicated

“It’s fine,” said Justin. “I’ll show you how to work this thing properly some other time.” He pressed the off switch. “Now I’m starving. Let’s go and have our lunch. Mum’s made hot dogs!”

Ernie grinned, and the two boys made a beeline for the kitchen.


	6. Study Partners

“Hermione, can I have some help with my homework?”

Hermione glanced up from her copy of Hogwarts: A History, which she was reading for the third time, to see Neville standing awkwardly next to the table. She’d already done her own homework, so there was no reason why she shouldn’t help him.

“Sure,” she said. “What subject?”

“History of Magic,” replied Neville, his face lighting up at her agreement. “Fifteen inches on how the use of diplomacy could have prevented the rebellion of Elfric the Eager. I don’t have a clue, so if I could just borrow your notes…”

Hermione nodded. She didn’t have a personal problem with Professor Binns, but she was well aware of how tricky her classmates found it to pay attention to him. “Gimme a sec,” she said shutting her book and standing up, “my notes are in my trunk.”

She walked quickly up to her dormitory, and returned five minutes later with the notes in question. “Okay,” she said, “let’s start at the beginning.” 

Neville pulled out parchment and quill.

“So… what do you know about the uprising of Elfric the Eager?”

“Not much,” muttered Neville. “Only that he was a goblin, and he wasn’t happy with the way wizards were treating the goblins…”

“That’s right,” said Hermione gently. “So: the uprising took place in 1438, because Elfric was annoyed that the then Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, a man called Henry de Montfort, had imposed a heavy tax on goblins as a means of paying for…”

She patiently explained the exact circumstances leading to the uprising, and helped Neville to plan his essay, but she left the actual writing to him. When she read through it afterwards, she was surprised by how good the essay was.

A few days later, he asked for help again, this time with a Transfiguration essay. Hermione found herself enjoying helping him: she’d always liked being able to help others with their work, and Neville was actually quite good once you started asking the right questions and believed in him a bit more.

It became a regular thing: every week or two he’d ask for help in one of the trickier assignments the first-years had been given, and they’d work through whatever it was together. It was a couple of months later, while they were writing about Flobberworm mucus together in the quiet Gryffindor common room one weekend, that he said, “Why am I so bad at this?”

“You’re not,” said Hermione immediately, and was surprised to find that she wasn’t just lying to reassure him: he actually wasn’t bad at it.

“But Professor Snape says – “

“Professor Snape!” said Hermione indignantly. “He hates all Gryffindors, you shouldn’t listen to what he says. You are not bad at Potions, or indeed any other subject, Neville.”

“It’s not just him,” said Neville, “the other teachers… Professor Sprout is nice, but it feels like the others are all just rolling their eyes and trying not to get angry with me whenever I mess things up.”

“You’re getting better, Neville, you’ve improved loads since we’ve been studying together. And I’m sure the teachers all support you!”

“Draco Malfoy – “

“Again, he hates Gryffindors on principle.”

“There were – there were a few Ravenclaws – in second year – and I heard them laughing about how stupid I was – “

Hermione found she was trembling with supressed anger. “Why does the world have to be so stupid?” she muttered. “It’s not fair! Neville, listen to me. If people call you stupid, then they’re wrong. They’re the stupid ones, for not being able to see your amazing potential. You’re easily the best in the class at Herbology, you’re even beating me!”

“Thanks, Hermione,” he muttered.

“You’re welcome,” she replied immediately, smiling at her friend – yes, he was her friend. She cared about him, and wanted to keep helping him. “Just let me know if you need any more help.”


	7. Order and Mess

“What kind of a mess is this?” asked Padma, gesturing with one hand to the contents of Mandy’s trunk: Chocolate Frog wrappers mixed with old textbooks and screwed-up uniform. A horrendous mess.

Mandy rolled her eyes. “It’s my mess, and there’s no need for you to worry about it.” She bit her lip to keep her temper under control.

“What happens if you need some of this stuff?” Padma continued, undeterred. She picked up a copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade One, holding the cover between her thumb and index finger at arm’s length as if disgusted by the condition of the book, which was covered in the remnants of some Liquorice Wands that Mandy had been eating while reading.

“It’s fine,” insisted Mandy. “I can just use a Cleaning Charm or something.”

“You’re a first-year, you can’t cast a Cleaning Charm yet.”

“Then I’ll get my big sister to do it, or whatever,” said Mandy, annoyed now, “you don’t need to keep going on about it.”

“But isn’t it much easier just to keep your stuff organised, like I do?” asked Padma. She lifted the lid of her own trunk to reveal perfectly folded clothes and neatly stacked textbooks. “It really doesn’t take that long, and it saves you loads of time later.”

“Look, different methods work for different people. You like to keep your things tidy; I don’t. We can just get on with living with each other and stop arguing about it!”

Padma sighed. “I’m sorry, I know it can seem like I go on a bit, but I… I just hate mess. I have this need for everything to be just where it belongs instead of sprawled all over the place. It really annoys me when something’s not where it should be.”

“It’s okay,” said Mandy, already feeling guilty for her outburst. “I can try and tidy it if you like.” After all, they would have to live with each other for the next six and a half years, more or less, so it was worth making the effort to get on well with each other. 

“Thanks,” said Padma with a grin. “Let me know if you need help.” 

Mandy nodded and began to pull out everything from the trunk so she could get it organised. The chaos was even worse than she’d thought and she had to admit that Padma was probably right: something needed to be done about it. It was probably a health and safety hazard.

“Chocolate Frog?” asked Padma after a couple of minutes, looking up from the book she was reading on her bed and pulling a couple from her pocket.

“Thanks,” Mandy replied, taking one from Padma and unwrapping it. She checked the card quickly, but it was Cliodna, who she already had, so she added the wrapper to her growing rubbish pile and took a bite.


End file.
